Why all daddies have a pot belly

Everything at home is going well. Ana is eating like a champ. She's also sucessfully pooped and peed on Lidia and I. She managed to do the first within hours of my post laughing about how she had gotten grandma twice. I should have known better than to do that.

Lidia is doing great. She is recovering quickly, and seems to be adjusting to the sleep schedule better than I am. I'm doing pretty good too, but haven't been able to hold two thoughts in my head at the same time. That is part of the reason for the lack of updates here. I think about posting two or three times a day, sit down at the computer to do that, get distracted by email, then get up to check on my girls, and then repeat the whole process. Life as a dad is a trip, and I'm loving it.

Finally, a shout out to the peeps that have provided dinner the past couple days for us. Kate graced us with a baked chicken and a batch of great guacamole on Sunday. Sara brought over chicken enchiladas and an awesome cake last night. They rock! I've made sure that Lidia is eating more than I am these days, but between that great food and the couple of quality assurance sips I take of her milkshakes I'm still getting plenty. The reason our dads all had pot bellies wasn't because they were lazy, it was because they ate too much when we were born and just weren't able to work it all off.